Sweet Child of Mine
by HavaBisqitPotter
Summary: To his friends, Harry Potter died eight years ago. When he suddenly returns, he finds that things have changed--drastically. Now, he must win back the woman he loves and gain her trust again... Before it's too late.
1. Saved the Best for Last

**Chapter One:**

Saved the Best for Last

"And now we're standing face to face  
Isn't this world a crazy place  
Just when I thought our chance had passed  
You go and save the best for last"

'Saved the Best for Last' —By Vanessa Williams

I never wanted to leave her. Never. Not once in our relationship did I _want_ to leave her. In all honesty, I had planned to come back and marry her. My mistake was not coming back.

There were all kinds of excuses; The Death Eaters were still abroad... I needed to find myself... I needed to get my head on straight... It just escalated and grew until BAM! Eight years had gone by and I was still joyriding. But now I know it's time. I'm going home. I figure Ginny Weasley's engagement party is a good enough excuse.

It's been eight years. I shouldn't expect her to be waiting for me. She's probably moved on. She's probably married to someone brilliant like herself and is busy developing a counter curse for something or other... but I can't help but see that tiny little glimmer of hope shining off in the distance. Maybe she still loves me...

I stand outside of the pub that Dean Thomas and Seamus Finnegan started after Hogwarts. The Snitch's theme is (naturally) 'Quidditch Through the Ages' and there is an entire wall dedicated to me, supposedly the greatest seeker that ever lived. I only wish I still had all of my reflexes.

Seeing Ginny Weasley and Draco Malfoy standing in the doorway, hands entwined, the diamond ring on her left hand glistening, brings back so many memories... A little red headed girl on Platform Nine-and-Three-Quarters... A slick haired boy in Madame Malkin's... That same girl (only not so little, and not so red headed) clutching the boy's neck almost seven years later... whoever would have thought that Ginny Weasley could change Draco Malfoy?

Ginny runs her free hand (her left—done on purpose, I'm sure) through her hair and shakes her head, laughing. She doubles back to me and her smile fades into a look of confusion. She nudges Draco and points to me. "Harry... What... You're supposed to be dead!" She crosses over to me and puts her hands on her hips.

There is a moment of shocked silence and then a collective gasp from everyone in the pub. The bartender doesn't seem to realize that the glass he was filling with Firewhiskey is running over. Every eye is on me.

"Err..." I shrug and shove my hands into my pockets. "Well... I'm alive!" I attempt to joke. She's not smiling. "Err... Surprise?" I look around nervously. You could hear a pin drop.

Ginny scoffs, turns on her heel, and storms back over to Draco.

The crowd seems to take this as a go ahead. They flock to me. People reaching for my arms and legs... People screaming for autographs and girls just plain screaming... Two very pregnant women push through the crowd to me. "I'm pregnant and I'm mean!" One of them snaps.

"Harry!" They fuss, one of them pulling my hair away from my forehead to see the scar.

I brush her hand away. I hate people touching it. Only Hermione... "I wouldn't try that... if... Wait a bloody minute..." I realize whose hand I have grabbed. "Lav... Lavender Brown! Well, bloody hell! How have you been?"

She laughs and I embrace her. "Well, Dean and I are getting on." She sighs and pats her stomach. "This will be our third."

"That's great, Lav! I'm really happy for you." She gets pushed away by her pregnant friend.

"Quit hogging him, Lavender!"

Parvati Patil has wound her arms around my neck. "We've missed you so, Harry."

Seamus appears at her side. "Now, Parvati, don't lie to him!" He winks at me and Parvati hits him on the arm. "I was only kidding. It hasn't been the same without you here, mate." He shakes my hand and turns his head to Draco and Ginny.

She's stamping her foot and pointing her finger at me. Her ears have gone red and her eyes flash dangerously. "Uh-oh..." Seamus sighs. "Dean, break out the hose. Looks like we're going to need to cool Ginny off."

Draco vehemently shakes his head and Ginny strides over to the bar. I watch her down a shot of... something and motion for another.

I am quite aware of the crowd pressing in on us now. "Uhh... Seamus, Dean... Is there somewhere that we can go talk? I mean, we're attracting quite a crowd."

Seamus nods. "Let's go open a room, love," he says to Parvati, wrapping his arms around her waist. "Dean and Lavender will show you back, Harry." They take off. I crane my neck looking for her... She has to be here...

Lavender pulls me into a quick hug. "If you're looking for Hermione, she's right over there." She points a perfectly manicured finger towards the left side of the pub. She winks at me and leads Dean towards the back of the bar.

"Harry!" "Mr. Potter!" "Harry, Harry!" "This way, Mr. Potter! Harry Potter!" The crowd's calls are muffled and strangely eerie as I make my way toward her. She hasn't seen me yet. She's sitting there, looking absolutely gorgeous, sipping a club soda. A wave of emotions comes over me and I have to fight the tears back. I have dreamed of this moment for the last eight years. She sighs and rests her chin in her hands. I know she is bored. Partying was never something she enjoyed.

"Harry!" I am swept into the arms of Mrs. Weasley. Her face is more lined that it was and there is more white in her hair, but her eyes hold the same warmth that welcomed me into the Burrow when I was a scrawny boy of twelve.

"Harry!" Mr. Weasley shakes my hand and soon I am surrounded by red hair. Bill, Charlie, Fred, and George...

"Where is—"

Ginny pushes her way through her family. "Potter!" I turn around and feel her fist connect with my nose.

"Ohhh..." I whimper and try to stem the bleeding. "God, Gin... You sure know how to pack a punch..."

She stops, mouth half open, and looks at me confusedly. "Th... Thanks..." She stammers, pulls out her wand and, with a few well-chosen words, has stopped the bleeding. Then she embraces me. "Welcome back, Harry. I'm sorry I acted like such a drama queen... It's just that... Well, everyone thought you were dead... And, err... Well, you've kind of... you know... _hijacked_ my engagement party..."

I nod. "It's quite all right, Gin... Let's go sit in the back and talk. We have a lot of catching up to do." She smiles and motions for Draco to join her. As they make their way toward the back, I decide to ask Hermione if she'll come with me.

She's talking to Colin Creevey. He hasn't changed one bit and his camera still appears to be permanently attached to his hands. She looks over my way at this precise moment and our eyes meet. Her smile fades into a look of shock and her eyebrows knit together. A highly confused Colin looks my way and raises his camera. Hermione pushes it back down and stands up, starting toward me.

Our eyes never part as we make our way across the floor. I am no longer aware of the calls going on around me. There is no one else in the room... Everything else is a blurry haze... There is a funny feeling behind my navel, almost like the feeling a portkey gives... But this is no portkey. This is the woman I love.

We meet in the center of the room. Her lips are parted slightly and her chest slowly rises and falls with each breath she takes. "Hermione..." I whisper, leaning in to catch the subtle traces of vanilla in her hair.

"Harry..." She breathes, backing away slowly. She then brushes away the hair that always falls into my eyes, and traces the scar on my forehead like she always used to do. "It's really you... I've dreamed of this..." I close my eyes and surrender to her touch, then take her fingers and bring them to my lips.

I kiss each one and then whisper against her fingertips, "I told you I'd come back for you..."

She pulls her hand away and looks at me. Her eyes narrow and cloud.

"Hermione... What's wr—"

She pulls back her fist and it collides with the underside of my jaw. It catches me off guard and before I know it, I am sprawled on the floor, looking up at her through watery eyes. It's the second time this evening I've been punched by a woman... There must be something in the water... She's got one hell of a right hook...

"Hermione... I though you would be ecstatic!" I pull myself up and stand in front of her.

She's nodding intensely. "You did? You thought that you could just come back here after eight years and I'd fall right back into your arms? Yeah, well, that always was your problem, Harry! Your head was too big for its own good." Ouch... Tears are streaming down her cheeks. "WHY DID YOU COME BACK?" Not good. Hermione Granger is screaming at me. "WHY IN BLOODY HELL ARE YOU BACK HERE? YOU'RE SUPPOSED TO BE DEAD! I'VE SPENT THE LAST EIGHT YEARS OF MY LIFE BELIEVING YOU WERE DEAD! I MOURNED FOR YOU! MERLIN, WE HAD A BLOODY HEADSTONE MADE FOR YOU!"

"Hermione..." I lower my voice, hoping that she will follow suit, and put my hands on her shoulders. "can't we talk about this?"

She throws my hands off her shoulders. "I CAN'T JUST PICK UP LIKE NOTHING HAPPENED! YOU TOLD ME THAT IF YOU HADN'T COME BACK IN A FEW MONTHS, YOU WOULDN'T BE COMING BACK! EIGHT YEARS, POTTER. _EIGHT SODDING YEARS!_ I'M NOT SEVENTEEN YEARS OLD ANYMORE, HARRY! TOO MUCH HAS HAPPENED... I'VE BEEN THROUGH TOO MUCH TO JUST TAKE UP WITH YOU AGAIN!"

"'Mione..."

"DO _NOT_ CALL ME THAT!"

"People are staring..." And they truly are. Every eye in the pub is on us... I know how much she hates attention, so I'm trying this angle... And did she just call me by my last name?

"AND THAT WOULD BOTHER YOU HOW? YOU'VE ALWAYS LOVED BEING IN THE LIMELIGHT! IT WAS PART OF THAT SODDING BIG HEAD!" She stares at me, panting and tears still falling.

"Hermione..." Ron steps out of nowhere and puts his arm around her. "Shh..." He breathes into her hair... (I used to do that.) "Come on, love... I'll take you home. Everything will be fine... I promise... We'll get through it."

She points a shaky finger at me. "He... He left..." Funny, she didn't have any problem finding words a few minutes ago.

"I know... I was there, remember?" He lays her cloak over her shoulders. "Come on... Let's go home..."

She nods and Ron turns back to me. "We need to talk, Harry... I'll be back later. Stay here."

Hermione sniffs. "He has problems with that one, Ron."

He kisses her forehead. (I used to do that, too.) "I'm serious, Harry. Stay here."

I nod and watch as my two best friends Disapparate.

_

* * *

_

_I sit upright in bed and desperately try to remember what exactly is happening today. I know it's something important... Quidditch... No... That was last week... I rack my brain for five minutes before I hear Ron muttering. "Ron..." I hiss. "Ron!"_

"Hmm... What? Are the spiders attacking?" He blinks lazily and sits up.

"Spiders?" I ask quizzically.

_Ron looks around and answers, "Erm... Never mind... Now, what did you wake me up for?"_

"I thought the spiders were attacking." I say gravely, somehow managing to keep a straight face.

"Oh, shut up, Harry!" He heaves a pillow at me.

I catch it easily, like an oversized snitch, and scratch my head. "What's happening today? I know it's something important... I just can't quite place it... I know it's not Quidditch... I'm pretty sure it's not Hogsmeade... Help me here, please."

Ron stares at me. "Blimey, mate... You have problems if you can't remember what today is..."

I shrug. "Okay... So, apparently it is pretty important..."

Ron sighs. "Harry... Check your trunk." He points to it.

I lean over the end of my bed. "Lumos..._" I whisper and the tip of my wand flares. I dig around in the trunk and pull out an oblong box. I remember. "T... Tonight?"_

"Yeah..." he nods. "You said you were going to do it tonight before you left in the morning."

I sigh. "Tomorrow? I can't believe it's finally here. I mean... In forty-eight hours, Voldemort or I will be dead... Possibly both. Nox," _I extinguish my wand. "I mean to say... Our lives will be snuffed out... Just like someone says... nox."_

He hits me playfully on the shoulder. "Come on, Harry... You're not going to die! You defeated him when you were just a year old... Surely you can do it as a seventeen-year-old."

My eyes rest on the box and I turn it over and over in my hands. "You'll take care of her if I don't come back." It's truly a statement rather than a question.

He nods and we sit in silence, watching the sun rise, knowing that an unspoken agreement had just been made between us. We both love Hermione. I have complete faith in the fact that if I'm gone Ron will be there, just like he always has.


	2. And I Love Her

**Chapter Two:**

And I Love Her

"I give her all my love

That's all I do

And if you saw my love

You'd love her too

I love her...

"...Bright are the stars that shine

Dark is the sky

I know this love of mine

Will never die

And I love her..."

I usher Hermione into the kitchen and sit her down at the table. She sits in shock, staring straight ahead while I make tea. It's finally hit, the realization that Harry has come home. We've talked about what would happen if he ever returned. 'I'm through with him, Ron!' she swore to me one night in The Snitch. 'If he ever comes back, I'll... I'll... I'll hit him in the face!' I didn't believe her... She was drunk, for Merlin's sake! I guess I should have.

I pour the hot beverage into a cup and make it just the way she likes it— honey and just a hint of milk— but I add something extra tonight; a potion for a dreamless sleep will help clear her mind.

I hand it to her and she absentmindedly takes it. "No, thank you..." she says quietly, sipping it.

Yeah... She's upset. "Listen, 'Mione... Go to bed. Sleep... That's what you need. Then tomorrow you can have a nice long think in a hot bath."

She nods, takes one more sip of her tea, and stands. "Wh... What?" She falls into my arms, asleep. Hmm... Potent stuff. I carry her upstairs and lay her on our bed. Then I just watch her.

I love watching her sleep. I love how she nestles her head down into the pillow and the way she sighs in her sleep. I love watching her chest rise and fall and how she parts her lips slightly and turns up the corners of her mouth into that sweet grin. I love how she hasn't changed at all these last eight years. I love how bushy her hair is and the way it spreads over the pillow. I love the rosy blush that paints her smooth skin. So, I think the conclusion we can come to, is that I love everything about her.

And I love _her_. But I knew that. I've always known that.

When I was little, my mother told me that every time a baby laughs for the first time, an angel gets its wings. Hermione may not be a baby, but the first time she laughed after Harry left was beautiful, and I'll be damned if a thousand angels didn't get their wings that day. It took her so long to laugh... When Harry left, she could not function. She gave her speech (the one she'd worked so hard on for nine months and practiced in the mirror for hours at a time) at the Farewell Banquet in a monotone voice and fought tears the entire time. Afterwards, she would cry and cry or just sit and stare. It was like Harry had taken her soul with him and left her body. In a way, he had. She was a shell. Empty.

Did he not realize she was mad for him? That leaving her would kill her? Then he has the nerve to come back eight years later like nothing ever happened. Now, don't get me wrong, I'm glad he's not dead, but why wait eight years? Why not owl or Floo or contact us _somehow?_ The little voice in my head that sounds strangely like my mum says,_ You know the only person who can give you those answers is Harry._

Yes, I know... But I don't want to talk to him.

He saved your life on more than one occasion... That nasty, little voice comments. _Remember? Don't you think you owe him?_

I never asked him to play the hero...

_Would you have left him to die?_

You know I wouldn't have.

_Isn't leaving him wondering almost the same thing?_

I pull the door closed and grab my cloak. The voice (wow... how nutters do I sound now?) is right. He may have left, but he deserves to know the truth.

* * *

He is sitting at the bar nursing his jaw with an ice pack, a large, half-empty (or half-full if you're one of those optimistic people) of Firewhisky in front of him. I sit beside him. "You couldn't magic it away?" I point to the bruise.

He laughs mirthlessly. "I didn't try to... I reckon I deserve what I get."

"You do..." I state simply, motioning for a shot of Firewhiskey. I drink it and pay Dean.

"You never did mince words, Ron..." he sighs.

I stand. "Come on... We need to talk. Let's get out of here, Harry."

He shrugs, gives the ice pack to Dean and follows me onto Diagon Alley. We walk in silence for a minute, passing Fred and George's joke shop. "They're still in business?"

I nod. "Of course. They out sold Zonko's the year after you left and—"

"Well, I noticed that The Snitch is where Zonko's used to be... Things have really changed."

Thank you, Captain Obvious... "It's been eight years, Harry. Things are bound to change."

"Herm... She... I mean to say, she looks good."

_And she's mine!_ I want to scream at him. "She's tough. She has to be."

"You guys were always the only constant in my life... And even now... I mean to say, it's nice to see that you two are still friends. At least one thing hasn't changed." He shoves his hands in his pockets. (How annoying... Talk about things that haven't changed.)

A thousand things are running through my mind right now... Do I tell him? Do I make him suffer? _Remember fifth year in the Department of Mysteries? _The horrible voice is back again. "Well..." Anyway, it gives me a good place to start. "Yeah... About that... We're married Harry."

He stares at me. I think he's in shock. "How long?" he says, quite calmly.

"It was eight years in November." I watch him. He shows no emotion. Good ole Harry... Always afraid to wear his heart on his sleeve.

"Why?" He looks at me, eyes shining in the dim light from the moon.

I shrug. How can I tell him? "It crushed her when you left, Harry. She... She just couldn't function. For the six months or so, she just kept telling us that you would come back for her... When we got married... I felt bad, Harry. Merlin, I felt bad..." How can I lie? How can I stand here and tell him that I felt horrible about it when there was that nasty little part of me that jumped for joy? How can I admit that I was almost _happy_ when he didn't come back and I got Hermione all to myself? How can I tell him that—

"But I did say that! And look! I'm back!" He's trying to justify it to himself.

I shake my head. "No, it's been eight years, Harry. Look... I'm not... asking where you were. I'm just trying to say..." I look up at the February sky and sigh. "She waited and waited for you to come back to her, and... You didn't. She was crushed. And then... _I_ picked up the pieces and helped her get her life back together—"

"Do you love her?" He cuts me off and we stop beside Gringotts.

I scoff. "You just don't get it, do you, Harry?"

"It's a simple question," he retorts. "Do—You—Love—Her?"

I sigh. "I always loved her." I grit my teeth and punch the wall. I see him flinch and rub his jaw 0absentmindedly. "but she always loved _you_. Don't you see? I just won by default. She just _settled_ for me." I run a hand through my hair. "Look... I'd... I'd better be getting back to her, Harry. Meet... Meet me for lunch tomorrow at The Snitch. We'll talk more tomorrow... You and I both need a think. Maybe I'll convince Hermione to come!"

He raises an eyebrow at me. "Hermione?"

"Okay... Maybe not then. But I will talk to her. I'll tell her..."That you're a lying jackass... "I'll try to make her see..." That you're the biggest bastard that ever lived... "But what you have to remember about Hermione... When she gets her mind set on something, she never relents." I laugh in spite of myself. "Remember _spew?_"

He chuckles. "How could I forget?" He mimics a fourteen-year-old Hermione, "'It's not _spew!_ It's S—P—E—W!'" Us laughing out here in the moonlight... It's almost like old times... But, suddenly we remember and stop laughing. We remember that we're not sixteen years old... We—well... _I_ have responsibilities... "Hey, Harry... Do... erm... Do you have a place to stay tonight?"

He shakes his head. "No... I haven't actually thought about that... yet..."

"Oh... Well, good luck with that!" I slap him on the back and right before I Disapparate, I turn and say, "You might check with Gin... Of course... She's probably with Draco." The last thing I see is of Harry staring open mouthed at me. Mission accomplished...

_

* * *

_

_"Harry!" I call as I run up behind him. "Harry! Wait for me!"_

"Us!" Hermione catches up to Harry and me and grabs his hand. "If I didn't know better, I'd think you guys were trying to exclude me!" She laughs, but I know that she knows she's right.

"'Mione, love..." Harry looks at her. "Are you sure you want to tag along with us? You could be in your room reading—"

She shakes her head. "The man I love is leav—"

"Shh!" Harry and I shush her and we continue to Dumbledore's office.

"Right... Anyway... You're... you know... Tomorrow morning and you expect me to be in my room reading?"

He sighs and we stop in front of the stone gargoyle that has become all too familiar this past year. "Hermione..."

"Who knows when I'll see you again?" Her chocolate eyes sparkle with tears.

Harry kisses her forehead. "I'll be back in a week!" He grins that awkward grin, but his eyes show uncertainty. He's been well-trained, but he's not invincible. 'My mum's not here this time...' He told me earlier this morning. 'What if... I die?'

I can't convince him that he'll be fine. After all... He's Harry-Sodding-Potter.

"Drooble's Best Blowing Gum," Harry tells the gargoyle and we climb onto the staircase, Hermione still clinging to Harry's hand, and me... tagging along behind them.

It didn't really come as a shock to me when they started dating. I guess I knew it would always happen. I just always hoped that something would happen and I would get my chance. I've gotten used to it. Right now, I'm just assuming my normal position. Standing behind them while they cling to each other. Harry told me once that when he looked into Hermione's eyes, he could see forever. I seem to have the same problem.

"Ron?" Her sweet voice reaches my ears. "Ron... We're here." She touches my arm with her free hand and we step into Dumbledore's office.

"Mr. Potter..." He stands and shakes Harry's hand. "Ahh... Miss Granger... Mr. Weasley... I should have thought as much." Hermione stands to leave, but the headmaster stops her. "No, no... It's important for Harry to be with the people he cares about now."

Hermione looks ready to dissolve into tears... But, then again, she's looked like that for pretty much the last month. "Oh, Professor Dumbledore! Isn't there any way I can go with him? Please?" Her eyes widen and a tiny drop slides down her cheek. She wipes it away almost angrily. She knows she must stay strong for Harry's sake.

"I am sorry, Miss Granger... There is just no way." The wizened old man looks at her sympathetically... Well, I've been forgotten again... But I really should be used to that by now... It happens when your best friend is Harry-Bloody-Potter.

Hermione takes in a shuddering breath and sinks into her chair, holding onto Harry's hand tighter than I've ever seen her.

"Professor Dumbledore..." Harry says. "I'm ready. I know it. I just... I want to get it over with. I want to get it over with and come back and get on with my life... I want to have a normal life without Voldemort... Without the Death Eaters... I want a normal life with Hermione. And Ron." Yeah, I heard the way you said that. Adding my name as an afterthought. Go on Harry-Bloody-Sodding-Potter.

Professor Dumbledore looks over the tops of his half-moon spectacles at Harry. "You're sure?"

Harry looks at Hermione and then at (Surprise!) me. He gives me the tiniest grin and answers, "Yes."

Professor Dumbledore nods. "You leave from the Astronomy Tower at three tomorrow morning. Be ready. Mr. Weasley, Miss Granger I assume you will help?" I nod while Hermione whimpers and looks at Harry. He reaches over to her and pulls her toward him, gently stroking her hair as she buries her face in his chest and cries. Finally, she cries.

I sit for a while, trying to decide what to do. I eventually put my hand on her back and mutter along with Harry. There are tears in my eyes, too, and when Harry looks up, I see that his glasses have tiny spots on them. Hermione offers her arm to me and the three of us sit in a squashed circle, crying our eyes out... Who knows when we'll ever get to do so again?


	3. Crash

**A/N: Thanks so much to all of you who have reviewed!**

ms.miverva---Here is Hermione's chapter. No explanations yet, but all will be revealed in due time. It only adds to the suspense factor. ;)

punkrockgirl182---Thanks so much! Hope you enjoy this chapter!

Greyhound Master---Not to worry. As I said above, it's not time yet. It wouldn't be understood, but there is a story behind all of those things. Keep reading for answers!

FLUFF WARNING! ahh... this is your first experience with my mother's fluff... it's really, really good though... so... yeah...

Chapter Three

Crash

"You've got your ball

You've got your chain

Tied to me tight

Tie me up again

Who's got their claws in you, my friend?

Into your heart I'll beat again

Sweet like candy to my soul

Sweet you rock

And sweet you roll

Lost for you

I'm so lost for you

You come crash into me

And I'll come into you

I come into you"

'Crash'—by The Dave Matthews Band

I am never, ever, ever, ever drinking again. For one, I have no alcohol tolerance at all. Ron says that I'm the only person he knows that can get drunk on champagne. Well, he doesn't have to worry about that anymore. I hate being hungover... It's the worst feeling in the world. Then there's the fact that when I'm drunk, I hallucinate. And when I hallucinate, I see Harry. No... Correction, I _hit_ Harry. But... Wait a minute, I hallucinated Ginny hitting him first, so this time it was different.

I open my right eye and see the pale yellow walls of my bedroom spinning around me. Okay, not a really good idea. "Hermione..." The mattress sags in the middle as Ron sits beside me and puts a hand on my back. "'Mione... Wake up."

I mumble something completely incoherent (even I'm not completely sure what I said).

"Oh, good you're conscious."

I wince as he turns on the light. (A lot of people ask me why, as a witch, I have electricity. All those candles in Snape's dungeon really creep me out. I'll take the, as dear Mr. Weasley says, 'eckeltricity' any day, thank you very much... Well, and Ron likes to play with the switches.) I sit up cautiously. "Merlin... How much did you let me drink last night?" I open my eyes and, slowly, everything comes into focus.

"Erm... Nothing. You had club soda last night, remember, Hermione?" He looks incredibly guilty.

"No..." I lick my lips. Must... Brush... Teeth... "But it feels like Buckbeak ran wild in my mouth last night."

"Oh!" Ron hands me a glass of water and some Pepper-Up! Potion. "Yeah... Well, you know, you might have had a glass of champagne or so..." He shrugs and watches me drink the Pepper-Up! Potion, followed quickly by a gulp of water.

Hmm... That's strange... It usually takes me two and a half glasses to get completely sloshed. "Well, if I didn't get drunk then why did I feel so gross this morning? You know, other than the fact that I haven't had a shower, brushed my hair or my teeth, or changed clothes."

He looks at the carpet. "Well... Don't get mad, love, but... erm... I, uh... I gave-you-a-potion-for-a-dreamless-sleep." He says it quickly and chews on his thumb.

"You did what?" I ask sweetly.

I see him relax. He thinks he's off the hook. "I gave you a potion for a dreamless sleep."

I smile and nod. "Oh, so what you mean is that YOU BLOODY LACED MY DRINK AND THOUGHT THAT I WOULD JUST ROLL OVER AND TAKE IT!" I pick up a pillow and hit him with every word. "Well—you—have—another—thing—coming—Ronald—Weasley! I—can't— believe—that—you—sodding—did—that!"

"Ow! Merlin, 'Moine, stop!"

I am in a fury. My hair is wild around my head and my arms flail.

"STOP!" He grabs my shoulders and holds me still.

"Anyway," I gasp, trying to catch my breath. "It didn't work, because I dreamed about Harry. I dreamed that he came back... and..."

He is staring at the carpet _and_ chewing on his thumb. "Err... Well, sweets, erm... Harry _is_ back."

"What? He's back? Now? After all this time?"

Ron nods. "Um... yeah. That would be about right."

"But he can't be!" I grab the pillow back and start hitting Ron again, this time wordlessly. I just want to take out every feeling that I had in the last eight years on something. Soon, I abandon the pillow and start using my fists, blindly hitting anything and hope it hurts.

"Hermione! Stop! Stop it!" Ron pins my arms to my sides. "Stop! Calm down! Just relax!" He brushes the hair out of my eyes and kisses me. "Relax... Just calm down..."

"Did... I, uh... Did I talk to him?" I ask after a minute.

I see him look over to the clock. "Look, 'Mione... Can't we talk about this later? You need time to think... Well, and so do I." He hugs me, kisses me softly, and stands. "I'm going to lunch. Will you be okay?"

I nod. "Yeah... I'm going over to the Burrow." He grabs his cloak out of our closet. "Ron, you weren't... You weren't planning on going to meet Harry were you?"

He looks at me. "Do you really want to know the answer to that question?" He nods. "Didn't think so. See you later."

I slump back into the pillows and sigh.

* * *

"Mum!" I call as I enter the Burrow. "Molly?" 

Ginny walks in and smiles at me. "Hello, Hermione. Mum had to run off, so Aunt Ginny is babysitting."

I bite my lip. "Oh, am I terribly late?"

She pulls me into a hug. "No one blames you, dear. How are you feeling this morning?"

I shrug. "A bit hungover. You?"

"Well," Ginny sighs. "Morning sickness is a killer, huh?"

My jaw drops. "Ginny Weasley... And you were throwing back shots last night at The Snitch!"

"Shots of carbonated water!" she says hurriedly. "I can pretend it's Firewhiskey."

I laugh. "What does Draco think about this?"

"He couldn't be happier! He's all set for a girl, but I don't know... I kind of want a little Draco to love." She winks at me. "Wouldn't Ron and Harry love that? Remember how they used to fight? Somehow the words 'Draco Malfoy the Amazing Bouncing Ferret' come to mind here," she laughs.

I scoff and shake my head. "Speaking of which... Gin... Can you tell me what happened last night? I can't remember a thing."

"What did Ron say?" she asks.

"He wants to talk about it later," I sigh and pick at a stain in the tablecloth. "He gave me a stupid potion that only resulted in the erasing of my memory... I dreamed that I hit Harry... But you hit him first. It was quite entertaining."

She laughs. "Hermione, dear! I did hit him... And so did you, darling! I must say, you do have an excellent right hook!"

I nod. "Good... He deserved it. I'd do it again if I had the chance."

"Well," she leans in towards me and drops her voice down to a whisper. "What about—"

"Mummy!" There is a mess of red hair in my face suddenly and I find myself looking into the beautiful blue eyes of my son.

"James!" I hug him. "Did you have a good time?"

He nods excitedly. "Yes, Mummy! Uncle Fred and Uncle George want to take me flying! Can't I go, Mummy! Please, please, please! Please let me go! I'll go straight home and clean my room! _Please_, Mummy!"

The twins enter and nod to me. "Hullo, Hermione," they say together.

"Good morning, Gred, Forge." I wink to them and they grin.

"Is it all right if we take James flying for a little while?" Fred asks me.

"I... don't know..." I sigh. I've never really enjoyed flying and it makes me nervous to think of my child hovering in the air.

"Come on, Herms!" George says. "We won't go very fast."

James looks up at me with those eyes. I sigh. "All right, but don't go very fast. And don't go too far. We have to be getting home soon."

James throws his arms around my neck and kisses my cheek. "Thanks, Mummy! I'll be really careful." He follows Fred and George outside and Ginny looks at me sympathetically.

"Oh, Gin... What am I going to do?"

_

* * *

"Harry..." I reach over and take his hand. "Come with me... Let's go to the astronomy tower." There are only a few other people in the common room, but right now I need him all to myself. _

I see him hesitate, start to object. After all, he plans to leave early in the morning and knows he needs his sleep. Then he looks into my eyes and whatever he sees there changes his mind.

"Let me get my cloak." He kisses my hand and lays it on my lap, then runs up the stairs to the dormitory.

When Harry returns, we slip out the portrait hole and, huddled together under the invisibility cloak, make our way to the tower. As we step out into the night, Harry drops the cloak at our feet and I cross over to the parapet. I tilt my head back to look up at the night sky. Gauzy clouds drift across the sky, obscuring the moon. It feels like it might rain soon. "Must you leave?"

"Hermione..." Harry sighs, coming up behind me to slide his arms around my waist. "We've been over this, love. You know I have to go."

"But why you? and why now?" I lean back against him, feel him rest his cheek on my hair. I could stay like this forever, safe and loved in his arms.

"Hermione," he says softly. "I need to tell you something."

I turn slowly in his arms so that I can look into his beautiful eyes. My breath catches in my throat. How long will it be until I can be with him again like this?

"Do you remember the prophecy that Voldemort was trying to get in the Department of Mysteries?"

"Of course." I nod, burying my head in his chest.

"The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches.... Born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies... And the Dark Lord will mark him as his equal, but he will have power the Dark Lord knows not... And either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives.... The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord will be born as the seventh months dies....'_"_

_I stand quietly for a moment, letting the words dance around in my head. "Oh, Harry..." I breathe, as the meaning becomes clear to me._

_"It has to be me, 'Mione," he says finally. "It's been my destiny since the night Voldemort killed my parents. Until he's gone, none of us are safe. Until he's gone, we can't have a life together."_

_He's holding me tighter now, so tightly I can barely breathe, but I don't care. I don't need breath, or food, or water, or sleep. All I need is Harry, alive, with me._

_"Promise me you'll come back to me," I say. _

_"'Mione," he says softly. "You know I can't do that."_

_"Promise me! I need to hear you say the words."_

_He holds me away from him so he can look into my eyes. "I promise that I will come back to you if there's a way. I would never stay away by choice. If I don't come back, it's because I can't."_

_I can't let myself think of that possibility, it hurts too much. I have to focus on the here and now, my last moments with Harry before the battle. "Dance with me," I say suddenly, pulling him away from the parapet._

_"What—here?" Apparently this wasn't what he expected to hear. "There's no music."_

_"We don't need music. We have each other."_

_As we begin to sway together slowly, the words of a muggle song run through my head. _

'You've got your ball

You've got your chain

Tied to me tight

Tie me up again

Who's got their claws

In you my friend?

Into your heart I'll beat again'

_Oh, Harry... You're so young to have so many people depending on you. We should be planning our future..._

'Sweet like candy to my soul

Sweet you rock

And sweet you roll

Lost for you

I'm so lost for you

You come crash into me

And I come into you'

_I look up into his eyes and I am lost in their emerald depths. My whole world is there. I see everything I need in Harry's soul._

_'_Touch your lips just so I know

In your eyes, love, it glows so

I'm bare boned and crazy for you

When you come crash

Into me, baby

And I come into you'

_My hand is on the back of his neck. I lift my face to him and pull his head down until I can capture his lips with mine. He hesitates for a split second, then deepens the kiss, his hands running up my back._

'If I've gone overboard

Then I'm begging you

To forgive me

In my haste

When I'm holding you so

Close to me

Oh, and you come crash

Into me, baby

And I come into you'

_Harry breaks the kiss and rests his chin on my head. "Enough, 'Mione. I'm getting... ideas here."_

_We've always taken the physical aspect of our relationship slowly. I've always secretly seen it as a sign of maturity that we don't need to rush things. But now..._

_"Harry, make love to me."_

_"Do... What?" He's stuttering. Great, just the effect I wanted._

_"Harry, I want you to make love to me... Now... Tonight."_

_"Not that I'm objecting, but... Are you sure?" he grins down at me and I can see surprise and— is that hope in his eyes? I grin back. He may be facing Voldemort tomorrow, but tonight he's just a seventeen-year-old boy._

_"You're leaving in the morning. I want our last hours together to be special. This is what I want."_

_He's looking at me seriously now, and I can see the debate going on in his head. "If you're sure," he says finally. "I can't think of anything I'd rather do my last night here."_

_I pull him down to the stone floor of the tower, then lean in to kiss him. "I have never been so sure of anything in my life."_

'Hike up your skirt a little more

And show the world to me

Hike up your skirt a little more

And show your world to me

In a boy's dream... In a boy's dream

Oh, I watch you there

Through the window

And I stare at you

You wear nothing but you

Wear it so well

Tied up and twisted

The way I'd like to be

For you, for me,

Come crash into me...'

_And the warm rain begins to fall. _


	4. Ordinary

All righty... So sorry that this hasn't been updated in quite a while... Erm, I've been posting on on Tuesday nights, so I think I'll practice the same here. Please read and review. It helps me to know what you're thinking. Anyway... Here's four.

Chapter Four

Ordinary

"Whose eyes am I behind

I don't recognize anything that I see

Whose skin is this design

I don't want this to be the way you see me

"I don't understand anything anymore

In this world that I'm tired of

Is taking me right up these walls

That I climb up to get to your story

It's anything but ordinary

"And when the world is on its knees with me it's fine

And when I come to the rescue I get nothing but left behind

Everybody seems to be getting what they need

Where's mine"

'Cause you're everything I need so very

But I'm anything but ordinary"

'Ordinary'

—Train

I'm hiding behind the morning edition of _The Daily Prophet. _Not because I'm worried about being recognized, but because I'm tired of all the whispers about how I got my black eyes. Yeah—The-Boy-Who-Survived-Voldemort-Seven-Times-With-Only-A-Nifty-Scar-to-Show-For-It has two black eyes. And an impressive bruise on my jaw. And I think my nose is broken, or at the very least badly sprained. Wait... Can a nose _be_ sprained? Whatever, it hurts like hell. I always knew I was more scared of Hermione than little Tommy Riddle for a reason.

"Harry, you can come out from behind there." I feel the table shift as Ron sits down across from me.

I lower the newspaper slowly and see Ron trying to fight the smile that has already spread across his face.

"Umm..." he laughs. "Uh... well..."

I sigh. "Go. I deserve it."

He laughs again. "It's not as bad as it could be, mate, honestly." He keeps laughing.

I want to reach across the table and give him two black eyes, an impressive bruise on his jaw and a broken (or sprained) nose. Instead I shrug awkwardly. "I guess."

He finally stops laughing and gestures to the paper. "Still making the front page?"

I scoff. "Yeah..." He grins at the picture of me, sprawled on the floor holding my jaw. "'Photo by _Colin Creevey!'_" I read. "Well, at least one thing hasn't changed!"

Ron grins. "Justin might disagree with that."

"Who... what?" I'm getting more confused by the second.

"Justin and Colin—they're an item now. They've really been good for each other."

Dear Merlin, what alternate universe have I wandered into? Hermione's married to Ron, Ginny's marrying Draco Malfoy, she and Hermione both hate me, Colin Creevey and Justin Finch-Fletchley are a couple... I'm not sure how many more shocks like this I can take.

Ron motions for drinks and drums his fingers on the table. "Look, Harry," he says finally. "I know a lot of things have changed, and I understand you're confused. But it's been almost nine years, Harry!" his voice is rising. Yep, he's angry with me, too. "What did you expect us to do, clap you on the back and say, 'welcome home, mate'?"

I look down at the table. "Well... kind of..." I mumble.

He snorts. "You were gone. We thought you were dead. We had to move on with our lives." He shakes his head. "Don't get me wrong here, Hermione would have waited for you til the end of time if she thought there was any chance of you coming back. She worked so hard to put her life back together after you left. In fact, she'd have my head if she knew I was with you now." He twists his wedding band nervously.

"Obviously..." I put a hand to my jaw. "So... How long did you say you've been married? A year, two?"

Parvati comes over, sets two bottles of butterbeer down in front of us and winks at me. "The usual, Ron?" she asks him. He nods and she turns to me. "Harry?"

"The same," I say shortly, not caring what the usual is. I just need to head the answer to my question. Parvati walks away and I turn back to my best friend... my _former_ best friend. "Ron?"

He looks down at his hands. He's really giving his wedding ring a workout today. I get the impression it's a nervous habit he's had for a while. "Eight."

"Months?"

"Years," he says quietly, finally looking at me. "Last November was eight years."

I spit out the drink of butterbeer I've just taken. "_Eight years?_ But... I left nine years ago this June. "You married her five months after I left? Unbelievable."

"We thought you were dead," he says simply.

"And that makes it okay?" I almost yell. I can see the tips of his ears turning pink. "She was _my_ girlfriend!"

He grips the table so tightly his knuckles are white. I know the one thing that will make him snap. It's the one thing that's always been an issue with us. I lean toward him. "And you were jealous, weren't you, Ron?"

He slams his fist on the table but says nothing. He stares over my head and breathes deeply. "She—" Breath. "_We_ had our reasons, Harry. Believing you dead was only part of it."

"I told her I would come back to her! She gave up on me after only five months? What kind of logic is that? I'll bet you moved in on her as soon as I was gone."

He looks back at me soberly, but doesn't respond. I am seeing a side of Ron I don't remember from before. Something in these last eight years has matured him immensely. "We had it on very good authority that you were dead. The Order pieced together what happened—they brought us your _glasses_, Harry. Or pieces of them, anyway. That's the day we began to accept the fact that you were gone."

"So, you thought Voldemort and I were both dead?" I ask him.

He shakes his head. "No... Hermione said that if you were dead, Voldemort was still alive. Something about some prophecy or other."

I start. "She told you that?"

He sighs. "You think she told me? She wouldn't betray you like that. I pieced it together from things she said and some conversations with Albus and Remus." He laughs mirthlessly. "You told her that you would come back to her. That you would never leave her by choice and if you didn't come back..."

"It was because I couldn't..." I finish his sentence, muttering the same words I breathed to her that night on the Astronomy Tower. "She told you that?" I'm wondering what else she told him.

"I strung it together." He traces the rim of the bottle with his finger. "She believed you. She said you promised her. And when has Harry Potter ever broken a promise?" He snorts. "Until then."

I'm still confused. "But why only five months? Why not longer? A year..."

"And then another and then another because that's the way it is with her. Believe me, Harry, if we hadn't made her deal with your... erm... _death_... she'd still be pining away for you."

"So you helped her deal with my death by _marrying _her?" I can't believe he expects me to just accept this.

"You don't know what it was like after you left, Harry. We all knew you'd gone to face Voldemort, but we didn't know where or when it would happen. The Death Eaters were out in force—it wasn't safe for any of us. We had reasons for what we did, but it's not my place to tell you what they were."

"And whose place is it?" I ask petulantly. I know what he'll say, but I have to hear it.

"You need to talk to Hermione."

My jaw gives a painful throb. "Yeah, because that worked out so well the first time!"

Ron sighs. "I'll talk to her. She just needs time to... deal with things. It's not every day her ex-boyfriend comes back from the dead."

That's when it really hits. All I am to her is an ex-boyfriend. Ron has been her husband for the last eight years. They've built a life without me. Suddenly I have a hundred questions. I don't know where they live, or what kind of jobs they have, or—

"Do you have children?" I ask abruptly. Suddenly, it's important that I know something about their live together.

He shakes his head. "I'm not discussing anything... personal with you. Hermione needs to tell you about the last eight years on her own terms." He shrugs. "Sorry, mate."

I look down and push away a congealing shepherd's pie. I never even noticed when the food arrived. Ron hasn't touched his either.

"Listen, Harry," he leans across the table. "Are you sure you're ready to talk to her? You're going to have to do a lot of explaining before she'll tell you anything."

I nod. "I wouldn't have come back if I wasn't ready to explain myself to her. I just hope she's ready to listen this time."

"I guess you found someplace to stay last night," he says, picking up his fork.

"I took a room at The Leaky Cauldron," I say, watching as he digs into his cold lunch. "But I thought tonight I might go to Number 12 Grimmauld Place."

Ron puts his fork down. Uh-oh. Ron Weasley turning away food? This does not bode well. "Not a good idea," he says slowly, looking everywhere but at me.

"I know it's probably in bad shape, but it's got to be better than The Leaky Cauldron..." Why is he acting so weird?

He clears his throat. "After you were... declared dead, Hermione inherited your possessions..." He grimaces. "She and I live there now."

Lovely. My best friend is married to my girlfriend and lives in my house. Can this get worse? Looks like The Leaky Cauldron for me again tonight. I sigh. At least there's one question about this universe solved.

* * *

__

"Hermione..." I shake her gently. "'Mione... Wake up."

Her eyes flutter open and she smiles shyly at me. She dresses silently as I turn and look out over the moonlit grounds. Hagrid's hut... The lake... The spot under the beech tree by the lake... Our _spot. I angrily wipe away the tear that is rolling down my cheek and I feel her hands on my shoulders and her lips on my bare back. I turn to face her and she looks up at me with those eyes. "Aren't you cold?" she asks, motioning to my exposed chest._

I shake my head. "No... And you looked bloody good in my shirt, 'Mione... I'm almost sorry you pulled it off!" We laugh and the harsh reality sets it. I grab her neck and press my lips against hers. I feel her relax into me and I break away from her. "I—"

"Don't think you have to say it, Harry," she cuts me off. "I don't need to hear it to know that it's true."

I've refrained from saying it. I know she could tell. This revelation does not surprise me. She knew I didn't want to get too close to anyone before I had to go fight Voldemort. It would endanger her. But now... All I want is to tell her exactly how I feel about her. "No, 'Mione... I want to. I've never said this to anyone before. God knows there was no one that I could_ say it to before. I... I love you, Hermione."_

"Are you sure?" she asks tearfully.

I nod. "Of course. You know... What I said earlier... you know that I meant it. I would never stay away by choice. If I don't come back... Well..." I shrug. "It's always a possibility."

"Yes..." she agrees. "But... Harry... Do you remember what I told you our first year? Right before you left to go defeat Voldemort for the second time in your life?"

I think back seven years. A shorter, slightly buck teethed Hermione with bushier hair throws her arms around me, much as she's doing now. "Hermione..." I breathe.

"Harry—you're a great wizard, you know," she whispers, tears falling down my chest.

I laugh. We're now saying the exact same things to each other that we said in our first year. It's comforting. How innocent we were then. We didn't know what we were feeling was love. We only knew that we only cared about each other. "Not as good as you..." I tease her, wrapping my arms around her waist.

"Me?" She giggles and throws her head back. "Books? And cleverness?" We stop our reverie and our eyes lock. "You've taught me more important things... Friendship... Bravery... Love..."

I capture her lips and am lost until she mutters. "Harry... It's 2:45. You'd better get dressed."

I pull my soaked shirt from the stone floor and, after she casts a drying charm on it, slip it over my head and pull her to me once more. "Fly with me..." I say quietly.

She shakes her head. "No... No, Harry."

"Are you scared?" I brush a lock of hair away from her eyes.

She shakes her head. "Not scared exactly... I just don't really like flying."

"You said you wanted our last hours together to be special." I know she won't argue with her own logic.

She looks absolutely terrified. "And they were_, Harry... They_ were!_ But... But..."_

I can see the wheels in her head turning, trying to find an excuse.

"You don't have your broom!" she shrugs. "Guess we can't go!"

I draw her to me. "It doesn't matter." I've been practicing human levitation charms for protection, but I never thought about this aspect of it. "Look down." We're six feet above the tower.

She peers over my shoulder and grabs me. "Harry! Harry! Put us down! But how'd you do that? This is very complex magic, Harry. I mean, not many wizards our age would be—"

"Hermione..." I speak over her. "Could you please stop considering the how's, when's, and why's of everything and just enjoy the moment?"

She nods, kisses me softly, and shuts her eyes tightly. She nestles her head down into my chest. I rest my chin on her head and hold her. That's all. Her breathing and the rhythm of her heart comfort me and her arms around my waist give me courage. It is in the desperate way she clings to me that strengthens me. I know who I am fighting for. She shivers and I draw my cloak more tightly around her.

"Mr. Potter..." Dumbledore's voice breaks up from our silent reverie.

Hermione whimpers and tightens her grip around my waist as we float back down to the tower.

Opening my eyes, I see Ron, Remus, Snape, McGonagall, and Moody standing in the doorway. I look to them and so does Hermione, her eyes brimming and her breaths becoming shallow and quick. She is close to tears. Stay strong for me, love... I can't bare to see you hurting. She steps a few inches away from me.

Professor McGonagall embraces me and whispers, "Good luck, Harry."

Snape holds out a pallid hand. I grasp it firmly and we shake without words. His usually cold eyes seem to soften a little and he stares at me. He nods and turns away from me.

Professor Dumbledore gives Hermione a sympathetic glance and shakes my hand as well. "Remus and Alastor will escort you to headquarters where you will await further instructions. You do understand, right Mr. Potter?"

I nod. "You've trained me well, Professor Dumbledore; a year ago, if you'd told me to await instructions, I would have grabbed you by the neck and shook said instructions out of you."

He laughs. "I think we have reached a point in time where you may call me 'Albus', Harry. And, I believe, Miss Granger takes most of the credit with your self control. It takes a big person to back away from arrogance for love."

Hermione blushes and I turn to Ron. He holds out his hand. I take it and pull him into a hug. We break apart and he claps me on the back. "Well... Good... Good luck, mate." His words are strained and oddly high pitched. He thrusts my Invisibility Cloak into my hands and turns away before I can see the tears that I know are there.

I turn to Hermione. She is trying so hard to keep her tears in check, but as one slides down her cheek and I plant my lips on hers, I feel them fall freely and before I know it, I am crying too. I taste the salty tears on my lips, but I don't know whether they're mine or hers. I reluctantly pull away from her and trace her jaw with my thumb. "I will_ come back to you." I whisper, seeing her cry harder. "I _will._ And you'll wait for me, won't you?"_

She nods and flings her arms around my neck. "Oh, Harry..." she breathes. "I'll wait forever..."

I stare into her endless eyes. "I love you." I hear Professor McGonagall's muffled sobs and see Snape awkwardly patting her on the back.

"I love you, too," she says, kissing me on the cheek.

Remus points to his watch and nods to me.

I kiss her one last time and steps over to Remus and Moody. "I'll be back..." I call to her and as she spins out of focus, I see her fall into Ron's arms and collapse into uncontrollable tears before I let my own slip silently down my cheeks.


	5. She's Like the Wind

Same story as before... I'm just trying to get you guys caught up to portkey. Review... Reply.. PLEEEZE?? :D

**Chapter 6:**

**Changes**

_"I'm not supposed to be scared of anything, but I don't know where I am_

_I wish that I could move, but I'm exhausted and nobody understands_

_I'm trying hard to breath now, but there's no air in my lungs_

_There's no one here to talk to, and the pain inside is making me numb_

_I try to hold this under control_

_They can't help me_

_'Cause nobody knows_

_Now I'm going through changes, changes_

_God, I feel so feel so frustrated lately  
_

_When I get suffocated, save me  
_

_Now I'm going through changes, changes  
_

_I'm feeling weak and weary walking through this world alone  
_

_Everything you say, every word of it, cuts me to the bone  
_

_I've got something to say, but now I've got no where to turn  
_

_It feels like I've been buried underneath all the weight of the world  
_

_I try to hold this under control  
_

_They can't help me_

_'Cause no one knows  
_

_Now I'm going through changes, changes  
_

_God, I feel so feel so frustrated lately  
_

_When I get suffocated, save me  
_

_Now I'm going through changes, changes  
_

_I'm running, shaking  
_

_Bound and breaking_

_I hope I make it_

_Through all these changes"_

_'Changes'_

_—3 Doors Down_

I lazily push my fork around in the long ruined shepherd's pie and take another drink of Firewhiskey. I've been sitting here, drinking, staring at my hands for the last two hours, just soaking in everything that Ron said to me earlier. _What did you expect us to do, clap you on the back and say 'Welcome home, mate?'_

And I guess in some strange way I did.

I look over to the darkest corner of the pub where Justin and Colin are sitting with their heads together, talking quietly. What else don't I know about this new life? What else has changed since I alienated myself from the only home I ever knew... Speaking of home... The Burrow! I haven't seen Arthur since... Well, since last night... But we didn't get to talk then. I think I'll swing by there and see how they're doing.

I throw my money on the table and sweep out of The Snitch into the Apparating Alley.

The Burrow spins into focus and I knock on the door. Molly opens it and gasps. "Oh, Harry!" She sweeps me into a bone crushing hug. "I was wondering when you would be stopping by!" She pushes me away quite suddenly. "Harry! Where in bloody hell have you been all these years? Oh..." She smiles. "Never mind that!" She hugs me again, and, I swear, just broke three ribs. "You're home now! Oh!" She gives me one last squeeze and leads me over to the table. "Are you hungry? Oh, dear, you look so thin! Haven't you eaten over the last eight years?"

I shrug. "I was always small for my age, Molly."

She waves her wand and potatoes start peeling themselves. "I was just about to start dinner for Arthur and myself when—"

"Grandma!" The door flies open and in walk Ginny, Draco Malfoy, and a small, red-headed boy. "Grandma! Guess what!"

"Malfoy..." I hiss, standing.

Ginny pats me on the shoulder. "We call him Draco since he's going to be part of the family soon..." She grins wickedly at me.

Damn it... I forgot about them being engaged. But... That means... Poor Ron. Draco will be his brother-in-law.

Whoa. Hold up. Stop. Poor Ron? _Poor Ron?_ Poor Ron my arse! He married Hermione. Let him have all the evil brothers-in-law he can stand! But... I do feel bad about the party last night. "Hey, about last night, Gin," I sigh. "I'm sorry for... _hijacking _your engagement party. I just wanted to come back at a time when I thought the spotlight might not be on me for a change."

She laughs. "It's fine, Harry, and I hate to break it to you, but there's never going to be a time when the spotlight's not on you. You're Harry Potter. You're The-Boy-Who-Lived!"

I nod. "Yeah... Don't remind me..." The little boy is jabbering excitedly to Molly. "Erm... Ginnny..." I mutter into her ear. "I didn't know you and Draco had kids..."

She scoffs. "Oh, he's not mine. I'm his aunt!"

"Uncle Draco let me get _sprinkles_!" The boy exclaims as Molly removes his snow covered garments. "The rainbow kind! Dad never lets me get sprinkles..." He purses his lips and thinks. "Mum says it's because he's cheap." The Boy sweeps his eyes over the kitchen and I see them land on me. He tilts his head to the side and walks over to me. He looks up at me and stares for a second before he speaks. "Who are you?" he asks, brightly.

Okay... I wasn't expecting this. This is definitely new. Someone who doesn't know who I am? Wow... "Erm... I'm Harry."

"Oh." He stares straight at me. "Harry who?"

I shove my hands in my pocket. It's sad that a six-year-old can make me nervous. "Err... Harry Potter."

A look of acknowledgment dawns on the child's face. "Ohh..." He nods. "I don't think my mum likes you very much."

What is this kid talking about? "Uhh... Sorry?" Excellent comeback, Potter. That'll really show him. I grab Ginny's arm and pull her over to me. "Gin, is there anything you might have forgotten to tell me?"

She stifles the laughter long enough to squeak out, "No... What did you have in mind?"

"Oh... You know... Maybe one of your brothers marrying Cho Chang."

Ginny laughs. "Cho? Look, I hate to break it to you, Harry, but she wasn't the only one who didn't like you."

"But... But... But..." I slump into my chair.

"Shut it, Potter!" Malfoy retorts from behind me. "Honestly, you sound like one of those Muggle motorboats. I'd best be getting off, love." I hear him kiss Ginny. "Molly..." See him hug Molly out of the corner of my eye. "Potter," he says, curtly, and there's a pop as he Disapparates.

Molly motions to the boy. "Ginny, why don't you take him on upstairs and get him ready for bed. I'll be up in a minute to tuck you in, dear."

"Okay, Grandma!" The Boy says, kisses Molly's cheek, and follows Ginny up the stairs. "Goodnight, Harry Potter!" He waves to me and climbs the stairs with Ginny at his heels.

"Lovely child..." I sigh.

"Ahh, well..." Molly serves the boiled potatoes and steak and kidney pie with a flick of her wand. "I expect Arthur and I, well, and his aunts and uncles have spoiled him. He's the eldest grandchild, you know."

"There are more?" I ask through a full mouth. I'm eaten almost half of what she gave me.

"Yes... Two younger than him," Molly says, her eyes full of pride. "Hilaree and Charlotte, Charlie's twins. They'll be two this summer."

I sigh contentedly. "I did miss your cooking these past years." I stand. "Thank you for dinner, Molly, I—"

She stands in front of me with her hands on her hips. "And just where do you think you're going?"

"Erm..." I point to the door. "Back to the Leaky Cauldron?"

She shakes her head. "It's absolute nonsense! You can stay here, of course! I don't know why you didn't come last night! It's not like we haven't got the room!" She lights a candle and leads me up the stairs to the room that Ron and I shared all of my summers here. "Well..." She hands me the candle. "You know where everything is, Harry, and if you need anything, well, don't be afraid to ask Ginny or me." She hugs me again. "Oh, it's good to have you back, Harry Potter."

I nod. "It's good to be back, Molly."

She winks at me and heads down the hall to what I guess to be The Boy's room. I can't put my finger on it, but something about the child seems strangely familiar... Something about the way he smiles and the way his red hair falls into his eyes. His sense of humor and the sense of logic that permeates from his young mind.

The realization hits me suddenly as Ginny walks past, flinging her hair off her shoulder. "Gin!" I call to her, running to the door.

"Yeah, Harry?" she asks, stopping in front of me.

"That little boy... What's his name?"

"James. Oh..." She looks like she wasn't supposed to tell me that.

"Is he... Is he... Ron and Hermione's?" I bite my lip, impatiently awaiting her answer.

Ginny sighs and I can see her fighting internally with herself. "Y... Yes," she whispers finally and takes the stairs two at a time on her descent.

* * *

27 July

Dearest Hermione,

This is a letter you will never read. I never intend for anyone to see it and since I can't send it to you, I'll just have to carry it around in my pocket until I come back. The only reason I'm writing a letter is to give my hands something to do. It's been murder this last month without you, love. I can't wait to go back home to you.

Things really aren't bad here. Well, not as bad as you might think. I can't tell you where we are in case this letter falls into the wrong hands. Just know that I am safe and that's all that matters. I hope you and Ron are well. Know that I never meant to hurt you by leaving, Hermione. You know I would have stayed... But I know you understand, so we'll not get into that.

Voldemort is running. He doesn't want to do battle yet. I wish he'd just grow a backbone (but that's kind of hard for a snake, isn't it?) and get it over with. I can see your face, dearest... You're smiling. I love it when you smile.

Strange... I keep talking about Voldemort or the War and always end up coming right back to you. Well, I think it's safe to say, Hermione Jane Granger, I am mad about you. There's never a time when I don't think about you. Never a night that I don't dream about you. Sometimes I swear that I can still taste you... Maybe it's just a cruel trick that my imagination is playing on me. Darling, I'll always remember your taste. You taste of rain and vanilla. Strange combination, I'll admit, but somehow it works for you, love.

Listen to how poetic I'm getting! I believe you have softened me! Now you're laughing. How I miss that laugh! Thinking back on our seven years together, I realize just how stupid I was to ignore all the signs. I don't know if I've ever told you this, but I knew I loved you in fifth year. In the Department of Mysteries. That bastard hit you with the curse... God, I'll never forget the look on your face as you sank to the ground with a hand on your cheek and your lips parted in that tiny 'O' of surprise. It felt like my heart was going to beat through my chest then, Hermione. And I knew that I couldn't live without you then. I knew that I'd die to protect you.

I knew in sixth year... When you dated Ron... I knew that I'd never have a chance. I knew that you loved him. So, when I saw the warning signs, I started looking for excuses. I couldn't get too close to anyone for fear of Voldemort discovering them. Then I knew at Christmas... Ron was going to visit Charlie with his parents and you were planning on going with him... But then you lied and said that you really needed to study for the N.E.W.T.'s. But you really stayed for me... And we almost had our first snog on the couch in the common room on Christmas Eve... But you... You were far too noble to do that to Ron. He'd been good to you, after all... Never done anything to hurt you. You couldn't betray him like that. But I knew then that you knew.

When he came back, you carried on for a while like nothing had happened. Then, one day, he came to me and asked me if I loved you.

Well, what was I supposed to do, 'Mione? Lie to him? Yeah, right...So I just told him. I told him everything I felt about you. Told him everything I'd ever even thought about. And do you know what he said, 'Mione? He said, 'You love her more than I ever could. And she loves you. She always has.' Wasn't that nice, Hermione?

Well, suffice it to say, I went running to the library and found you sitting there. I took your ink-stained, calloused hand and led you out to the beech tree by the lake. I could tell you were a little bit confused. But I didn't care. I just confessed everything. I didn't care if you thought I was completely nutters. I just wanted you. Do you remember what you did then? You just threw your arms around my neck and kissed me. That was our first kiss. We went from there. I knew it had to be hard for Ron, but after he and Luna started dating, I guess he really didn't mind all that much.

Then this past year... You were all that kept me going, love. You were my rock of Gibraltar. I never would have gotten through it all without you. All the late night chats in the common room. One of my favorite memories of you is the first time I woke up with you in my arms. You had your head buried into my shoulder and your arms wrapped around my chest. It almost seemed like we were made to fit together like that. Like our bodies were contoured to one another. It was amazing how you could throw your legs across my lap and nestle your head into my chest and we'd both be comfortable. Anyway, we must have been. We slept that way many times.

How I long for those days again, Hermione. You can't know how much I love you. In fact, I don't even think I_ know how much I love you. I've had a lot of time to think it over this past month, love. I think that we can't possibly feel how much we love the people we love because our bodies just can't handle it. If we felt all those feelings, we'd die. We couldn't survive knowing how much we love people. We become immune to it. Obviously, I know that I love you. I know that I want to be with you forever... But what constitutes that? How do I know that? There are some questions for 'Hermione-the-Great' to ponder and write essays about. I can see you grinning, love. Grinning through tears. Don't cry, darling. Please don't cry. It makes me want to be there even more._

I can't think of anything else to tell you, dear heart. So, do you remember primary school?

Harry loves Hermione.

Harry Potter loves Hermione Granger.

Harry James Potter loves Hermione Jane Granger.

I love Hermione.

I love her.

I love you.

Yeah... I like that last one. I love you... I love you... I love you... I love you.

With all my love always,

Harry


	6. Changes

Chapter Four

Ordinary

"_Whose eyes am I behind?_

_I don't recognize anything I see_

_Whose skin is this design?_

_I don't want this to be the way you see me_

"_I don't understand anything anymore_

_In this world that I'm tired of_

_Is taking me right up these walls to get to your story_

_It's anything but ordinary_

"_And when the world is on it's knees with me it's fine_

_And when I come to the rescue I get nothing but left behind_

_Everybody seems to be getting what they need_

_Where's mine?_

'_Cause you're everything I need so very_

_But I'm anything but ordinary_

"_Can you save me from this world of mine_

_Before I get arrested with expectation?_

_You are the one_

_Look what you've done_

_What have you done_

_This is not some kind of joke_

_You're just a kid_

_You weren't ready for what you did..._

"_I think I've been trying to save the world for you_

_You've been saving me too_

_We could just stay in and save each other"_

_"Ordinary"—by Train_

I am hiding behind the morning edition of _The Daily Prophet._ My eyes are black... _My_ eyes are black. Yeah... 'The-Boy-Who-Survived-Seven-Times-Without-A-Scratch' has two black eyes (and a quite impressive bruise on my jaw, I might add) from women. I always knew that I was more scared of Hermione than little Tommy Riddle for a reason.

"Harry, you can come out from behind there." I feel the table shift as Ron sits across from me.

I lower the newspaper slowly and see Ron trying to fight the smile that has already spread across his lips.

"Umm..." he laughs. "Uh... Well..."

I sigh. "Go ahead. I deserve it."

He laughs again. "It's not as bad as it could be, mate, honestly." He keeps laughing.

I want to reach over and give _him_ two black eyes and a quite impressive bruise on his jaw, but I refrain and shrug. "I guess."

There is a moment of awkward silence before he speaks. "Still making the front page?"

I scoff. "Yeah..." He grins at the picture of me, sprawled on the floor holding my jaw. "'Photo by Colin Creevey'..." I read from the paper. "Well, at least one thing's the same..."

Ron motions for drinks and drums his fingers on the table. "Look, Harry," he says finally. "I know that a lot of things have changed. I understand that you're confused. Why else would I be here? Hermione'll have my head if she finds out... She's... erm, not exactly, _thrilled_ with you being back." He twists his wedding band nervously.

I put a hand to my jaw... Quite obviously. "So... How long did you say you've been married? A year, two?"

Parvati comes over to us, sets two bottles of butterbeer in front us and winks at me. "The usual, Ron?" she asks him. He nods and she turns to me. "Harry?"

"The same," I tell her, not really knowing what the usual is, but I don't care. I just need to hear the answer to my question. I take a drink.

"Eight."

I spit the butterbeer into his face. "What?"

"This past November," he says quietly, "it was eight years."

I am shock. "But I left nine years ago this June. You waited _five months?_ Unbelievable..."

"We thought you were dead," he explains simply.

"And that makes it okay?" I almost yell. I can see the tips of his ears turning pink. "She was my girlfriend!"

He grips the table so tightly that his knuckles are white. I know the one thing that will make him snap. The one thing that's always been an issue with us... I lean toward him. "And you were jealous, weren't you, Ron?"

He slams his fist on the table, his ears glowing, but he says nothing. He stares over my head and breathes deeply. "She—" Breath. "_We_ had our reasons, Harry. Believing you to be dead was only part of it."

What does he mean 'only part of it'? "What? I told her I would come back! She gave up after only five months? What kind of logic is that?"

He shrugs. I am seeing the matured side of Ron. Something about these last eight years has made him grow up immensely. "We had it on very good authority that you were dead. We had proof. The Order turned up everything. The only thing they lacked were eyewitnesses... They might have even found those if the Death Eaters hadn't all been kissed."

"So, you thought that Voldemort and I had both died?" I ask him.

He shakes his head. "No... Hermione said that since you were dead Voldemort was still alive. Some prophecy or some sort..."

I start. "She had no right to—"

He sighs. "You think she told me? Yeah, right. Wild horses couldn't drag it out of her. You know how she is. 'It's just... And, that means... but it couldn't mean... I need to go to the library.'" He laughs mirthlessly. "You told her you would come back to her. That you would never leave her by choice and if you didn't come back..."

"It was because I couldn't," I finish his sentence, muttering the same words I breathed to her that night on the Astronomy Tower. "She told you that?"

"I strung it together..." He traces the rim of the bottle with his finger. "She believed you. She said that you had promised her... And, when has Harry Potter ever broken a promise?" He snorts. "Until then at least."

"But..." I'm still confused. "Why only five months? Why not longer? A year..."

"And then another, and then another, because that's the way it is with her. She always trusted people too much. Look, I'm not trying to justify what we did, but you have to understand that there were reasons."

I raise an eyebrow at him. "What were they? And they'd better be good." I'm getting angrier and angrier as this lunch progresses. It's something in his inflection. It's ridden with that 'I'm-Better-Than-You' air, and I refuse to believe that.

He shakes his head. "I can't tell you. You have to talk to Hermione about that one. She'd _really_ be cross if I— Hey, wait! Where are you—"

I have jumped out of the booth, thrown a Galleon on the table and almost run Parvati down in my haste to get out of the pub.

Ron follows me and blocks the path to the door. "Where are you going?"

"You told me that she'd have to tell me, so I'm going to talk to her," I try to get past him.

He pushes me back by the shoulders. "No, no, no, no, no... You can't talk to her!"

"Who says?" I reply like a three-year-old.

"I did!" he retorts, flushing bright crimson.

I glare at him. Surely, Hermione doesn't let him push her around. He said just two minutes ago that she'd kill him if he told me the 'reason'. "She lets you govern her like that?" I'm sorry, but I'm almost positive that Hermione was never one of those 'Women-Submit-To-Your-Husband' females... Met an English teacher in the States that preached that... She's independent... And she's got one hell of a right hook.

"If you didn't look so pathetic, I'd hit you again..." He glowers at me. "But I think I'll let Hermione have the pleasure... Again..."

I brush past him and into the alley behind the pub. I Disapparate, silently cursing him.

I arrive at the Burrow moments later and am still angry at Ron. I storm into the kitchen muttering under my breath and see Hermione and Ginny sitting at the table. Hermione's eyes are quite red and puffy, but a smile is painted on her lips. She looks at me and then down to the child with wind-blown red hair and blue eyes. He is without a doubt Ron's child.

Ginny reaches for the child's hand and leads him out of the room. "Where are we going, Aunt Ginny?" he asks, twisting to look at me. "Who is that?"

"Well," I hear Ginny begin. "That's an old friend of your Mum and Dad's..."

I look at Hermione. "W... Your son? Ron's son?"

Hermione stands and crosses her arms. "Yes."

She's not going to offer any more information than she has to. "Well, does he have a name? Does he know who I am? How old is he?"

"Yes, he has a name, it's Harry James." Her eyes fill with tears, but I think they're from anger.

"You... you named him after me?" I ask, dumbfounded. "Wh... Why?"

She shrugs. "We thought you were dead."

That phrase seems to be coming up a lot lately. "Yeah, I know."

"We wanted to pay homage, but I'm reading up on magical name changes!" she replied acidly.

"Hermione, why are you doing this?" I ask her, quietly, reaching over to touch her cheek. "I still love you, you know. Don't you still love me?"

She blinks once. "No. I quit loving you a long time ago." Hermione calls to her son and he clings tight to her as she Disapparates. As the image of the little boy waving to me fades, so does that last glimmer of hope I had.


End file.
